Questions

A regular, drop-in, in-person session for men, built around Interval Breathing — intervals of slow, even breathing paced by light, alternating with silence. The aim is deceleration: the breathing takes the speed off gently, and the silences ask you to sit with a little of what comes up; block by block, the system settles. The same principle runs through the hill walk, and, in time, perhaps clubs. It is not therapy, not a lecture, and not a group to process the past. It looks forward. You come to build something, not to be fixed.

The modern world is very good at keeping us stimulated and switched on — demand, alerts, comparison, a system built to farm our attention. Almost nothing trains the opposite: the deliberate settling-down. Most of us have plenty of practice speeding up and very little slowing down. The Practice trains the missing half — learning to govern your own state — with no doctrine to sign up to.

The destination is similar; the route is honest about how we actually get there. Sitting in cold silence from a standing start rarely works — the body is still running hot. So we bring the arousal down in stages: rounds of slow, even breathing, each followed by a pause, so that by the time the long silence comes the descent has already been rehearsed several times. We are landing a plane, not dropping it on the runway. And there is no promised blissful state at the end — just the sit, done again. That honesty is deliberate.

Breathing at around five to six breaths a minute is one of the few levers you can pull by hand that reaches the involuntary nervous system. At that pace, heart rate, breath and blood-pressure reflexes fall into step, vagal (calming) tone rises, and heart-rate variability — a broad marker of a flexible, resilient system — goes up. In plain terms: a slow, even breath tells the body it is safe, and the body listens.

Nose breathing only, all the way up, and no talking. On this gradient that alone is a real restriction. For those who want more, a simple geared system paces breath to steps — four steps in, four out, and so on — which gives your attention somewhere to go and makes the climb a shared task rather than a walk in awkward silence.

The skill being trained is staying with mild air hunger instead of bolting to the mouth or panicking the pace. If the nose is not enough, the answer is always to slow down; that is the design, not a failure. In the Hall there is no restriction at all — the pace is slow and even, and nothing is held.

Because everything silence promises is on the other side of tolerating a little internal discomfort. Nobody decelerates from a hundred miles an hour by sitting alone for an hour; the momentum is too much, the heat is unbearable, and you would rightly never try it again. So the exposure is progressive: the silences start at four minutes and lengthen as your tolerance grows, with the breath as a handrail between them. Expect a busy, cloudy mind — that is normal, not failure; it is the heat coming off as the system slows. We are not chasing a blank mind, and there is nothing to fail at.

No. Nobody is asked to share anything — before, during or after. In the hall nobody speaks at all, including me. On the way up the hill, silence is the rule; on the way down, talk or don't, as you like. Men who want to say something will; nobody is ever asked.

Not out of anything against women — the room simply works differently when it is men only. A lot of men will not walk into a wellness, yoga or meditation space; the look and language of it says not for me, and they stay stuck. They tend to show up more readily for something plain, physical and shoulder-to-shoulder — competence first, connection sideways, no one asked to bare their soul on a cushion. A room of men doing hard, quiet work together is a specific and useful thing. That is what this is.

Be sensible and take advice. The breathing is slow and even, and nothing is held or restricted; a long sit and an uphill walk are still real physical stimuli. If you are pregnant, or have a heart condition, high or unmanaged blood pressure, epilepsy, diabetes, a respiratory condition, or are recovering from surgery — among others — talk to your doctor before you come, and go easy when you do. Nothing here is forced. You can breathe normally, sit anything out, pause, or leave at any moment; that is always your call.

The Practice is not therapy, and it is not treatment for any condition. It is not a substitute for professional mental-health care, and it will not resolve trauma. Some men find slow breathing steadying; others find silence, or time with their own thoughts, activating rather than calming. If you live with PTSD or another condition, keep whatever support you already have, speak to your doctor or therapist about whether this is a good fit, and be free to stop the moment anything feels like too much. If you are in crisis, this is not the place to turn first — reach out to a professional or a crisis line.

No. It is drop-in by design: a first-timer and someone who has come for months both get a complete session in one morning. There is no sequence to catch up on and nothing to be good at. Everything is self-paced, and the hard parts are self-limiting — you take only as much as you choose.

It is free for now. Bring nothing. Wear something you can move in. For the morning sessions, arrive any time from 6:45am for tea; we begin at 7:00am (if you're new, please come at 6:45am).

It is new; some mornings a handful, some mornings two of us, and the session runs either way. Early has its advantages.

Yes. The same practice runs in your browser at thepractice.works/now — choose a length, press begin, follow the light. Practice at home explains how to read it. Nothing to install and nothing to sign up for.

Times and locations are on this site — just turn up. If you're not sure, message me first and ask me anything: wa.me/447424799151. The one-way WhatsApp channel carries changes and announcements: join it here.